The Birds and the Bees … and Pigs
by dustnik
Summary: Set in 1926. Andy and Daisy are getting married, and Thomas and Mrs. Patmore are there to help. Canon compliant through Season 6.
1. Chapter 1

Soon after Thomas Barrow returned to Downton Abbey from his time with the Stileses, he saw that things had progressed between Andy and Daisy. The footman's awkward advances and the assistant cook's indifference had given way to shy, intimate smiles and longing glances. The two young people were falling in love. Thomas watched the romance play out before him, just as he had with the Carsons and the Bateses before them. Well, at least _they_ weren't in their dotage or in prison.

One summer day after tea, he got up from the table, and the other servants rose automatically too. As he was about to head off to his pantry, he heard Andy say, "If you could just wait a bit, we have something to tell you all." Barrow turned to see Daisy standing hand‑in‑hand beside the footman. The others were staring curiously at the pair too. After several false starts, Andy finally blurted out his news. "Daisy and I are getting married."

Mrs. Patmore immediately burst into happy tears, nearly smothering Daisy as she gathered the girl to her ample bosom. A delighted Mrs. Hughes planted a kiss on her cheek while Anna and Miss Baxter were quick to offer up their best wishes. Not to be overlooked, Andy came in for his share of good‑natured teasing as Mr. Bates and the hallboy plied him with hearty handshakes and slaps on the back. Thomas managed a wry smile as he congratulated the couple. That would leave him the Abbey's only resident monk.

"Have you told your Mr. Mason yet?" Mrs. Patmore asked.

Daisy beamed. "He's dead chuffed. He wants us to live with him after the wedding, and we said we would."

"It'll be a big change for him having the two of you there after being on his own for so long," Mrs. Hughes remarked.

"I was going to move in anyway, and Andy can help out on the farm—when he's not needed here," she amended herself quickly, glancing nervously in Thomas' direction.

Andy added, "He said he wouldn't mind if we want to start a family." That caused Daisy to blush and the others to laugh.

"Have you set a date yet?" Miss Baxter asked them.

"Reverend Travis said he has an opening a week from Saturday," Daisy replied.

"That's only ten days away," Anna observed with a start. "It's not much time to plan a wedding."

Andy smiled down at Daisy. "We'll be ready."

"Well, I think news like this calls for a toast," Thomas declared brightly. "I'll have to check with His Lordship, but I don't think he'll begrudge us a couple of bottles of champagne."

The following week passed in a frenzy of wedding plans. Mrs. Hughes insisted on purchasing a new dress for the bride‑to‑be from a mail‑order catalog, and the lady's maids went to work fitting it for her. In the kitchen, Mrs. Patmore busied herself with the preparation of a two‑tiered wedding cake while the housemaids decorated the servants' hall for the couple's reception. Unfortunately, the Bateses and Miss Baxter would be unable to attend, having accompanied the family to Northumberland.

* * *

Thomas was seated in his pantry pouring over the wine ledger. He was happy to have a few minutes to himself away from all the endless wedding chatter. A bride, a groom, and a church—how complicated could it be? He heard a sharp knock and looked up to see Mrs. Patmore bustle into the room. "Might I have a word, Mr. Barrow?" She shut the door behind her.

"Of course," he replied, closing the book with a sigh. So much for his respite. He indicated a chair in front of the desk, and she lowered her round figure into it.

"Something's been troubling me, and I need your help."

"Oh, yes?"

"It's about the wedding—no, that's not it—not the wedding itself."

 _For God's sake, woman, stop dithering and get to the point!_

"It's about the wedding night." She fixed him with a questioning look.

"They'll spend the entire weekend at Mr. Mason's farm."

The cook's voice took on a note of exasperation. "Yes, that's all well and good, but has anyone told them what to expect?"

He merely returned a blank stare.

"You know—in the bedroom." She spoke the last part in a whisper.

Thomas was shocked when he finally took her meaning. Was it possible the young people were unacquainted with the facts of life? Andy had grown up in the east end of London in a large working‑class family with several older brothers. Surely, one of them would have said _something_. And Daisy, in the course of her studies, _must_ have stumbled upon the subject at least once. "They don't know?"

"As you recall, Daisy was raised in an orphan's home, and Andy's father was killed in the war, poor things. Perhaps no one got around to telling them."

"And that's what you're planning to do?" He tried and failed to imagine that discussion.

"Who else? Mrs. Hughes can't bring herself to speak of such matters, and Anna is away." She paused. "I'll have the talk with Daisy after dinner, and I thought you might do the same with Andy."

"Me?" Barrow asked in astonishment. "Why me?"

"You _are_ the butler."

"Yes, but I … I'm not sure I'm the best person to have that particular conversation with him." Indeed, he was convinced that he was the very worst person.

She seemed to understand his reluctance. "No, but there are no other men here to ask."

Not the most flattering invitation, but he realized she was right. For once, Thomas wished that Bates were there. "What about Mr. Mason?" he asked hopefully.

"Daisy is like a daughter to him. I doubt he wants to even think about—that," Mrs. Patmore explained, wrinkling her nose.

Thomas knew the feeling.

"So will you do it, then?"

"All right," he agreed resignedly. "I'll talk to him tonight." He wondered if old Carson ever had to deal with these matters.

* * *

That evening after dinner, Thomas approached Andy. "Would you care to take a walk with me?" The younger man looked surprised but followed without question. They ambled along in silence for a time, with Thomas matching the footman's long strides. Finally, he knew he couldn't put it off any longer. "Are you nervous about the wedding?"

"I think I'm ready, Mr. Barrow."

"Are you sure you've thought it through? You're still very young."

"I'm sure. Daisy's the one for me."

Thomas suddenly pictured the girl he took to that fair so long ago now, the one who had looked up at him with such adoring eyes. "You know that she was married before. She wed William Mason on his deathbed."

Andy nodded. "She said he wanted her to be looked after when he was gone. He must have been a very good sort of man."

"He was," Thomas was surprised to hear himself say. The two had never been friendly when they were footmen together, even coming to blows on one occasion. "But the point is he wasn't able to—he was much too ill for—they didn't—" He was silently cursing Mrs. Patmore.

"I know she wasn't in love with him if that's what you mean."

It wasn't. Thomas saw that this was going to be more difficult than he had anticipated. They came upon Lady Mary's pigsty. It gave him an idea. He knew that Andy hoped to become a farmer, so he must have witnessed animals mating. "In nature, there are boars and sows, just like there are men and women, like you and Daisy—"

"Are you saying Daisy is like a sow? She wouldn't thank you for that. For a start, she smells a right bit better," Andy said with a grin.

"What? No. It doesn't have to be bloody pigs. It could be sheep or cattle or—"

"Are you interested in farming, Mr. Barrow?"

The butler was losing patience. This wasn't going the way he had planned. "We'd better be getting back." They retraced their steps in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Thomas decided he'd have to take the direct approach. "Andy, is there anything you want to know about the wedding night?"

"It's all arranged. We're going to stay at Yew Tree farm."

"That's not what I meant exactly."

Andy's brow furrowed. "What did you mean, then?"

How could the lad be so thick? "I'm talking about what happens in bed. Do you know about making love to a woman?"

"Do you?"

Thomas was completely thrown off balance by the question. He felt his pale cheeks burning. "Well, I understand the mechanics of it anyway."

"Then you've never been with a girl, Mr. Barrow?"

"Not exactly," he admitted. How had this become about him? They were in sight of the Abbey now. "What I'm trying to say is you'll need to be patient and gentle with Daisy. Take your time. You have the rest of your lives to be together." Thomas knew he'd made a mess of things, but he'd done his best. They would just have to figure it out for themselves. The two men entered the kitchen courtyard, and Andy took a seat on a bench by the gate. "Aren't you coming inside?" the butler asked him.

"Not yet, Mr. Barrow. I reckon I'll just sit here for a bit. You've given me a lot to think about."

"Have I really?" Uncle Thomas to the rescue again.

* * *

A short time later, the back door opened, and a small figure emerged. Daisy spotted Andy and hurried over to join him. "Shove over," she requested, dropping down beside him. "You won't believe the conversation I've just had."

"You too?" he asked ruefully. The couple looked at each other and burst into laughter.

"I had Mrs. Patmore on at me for the longest time until I wondered how to get away." Daisy's little face grew puzzled. "The thing is I don't think she knew what she were talking about. She kept going on about birds, and bees, and such."

"With Mr. Barrow it was pigs." That caused more hysterics.

The young woman became serious. "We shouldn't laugh, really. When you think what we have that they'll never have."

"We're very lucky."

She patted her belly. "I wonder what they'll say when it starts to show."

Andy wound one long arm around Daisy's shoulders and drew her into a tender embrace. "We're going to have such a wonderful life together, aren't we?"


	2. Chapter 2

With the wedding behind them, the newlyweds settled comfortably into married life. Each morning, they made the twenty‑minute walk from Yew Tree Farm to the Abbey, returning again at night. As the weeks passed, Daisy's condition was becoming increasingly apparent to all until finally, Mrs. Patmore could hold her tongue no longer. "When were you planning to tell us—when you went into labor?" Daisy was forced to admit the truth, and everyone then felt free to congratulate the couple.

Thomas thought back to his little talk with Andy on the eve of his nuptials. "And you let me go on and on," he later complained to the footman. "Why didn't you stop me?"

Andy couldn't hold back a smile. "I found it all very informative, Mr. Barrow."

"I should make you clean silver for a month for putting me through that."

At last, it came time for Daisy to hang up her apron for good. Upon her departure, there were tears and promises of happy visits to come. Thomas found himself feeling unexpectedly sentimental. The two had worked together a long time. _I'm becoming an old woman,_ he thought ruefully.

* * *

One day when the family was invited to dine at a nearby estate, Thomas granted Andy the evening off. To his bewilderment, the footman seemed reluctant to leave. "Don't you want to spend time with Daisy?"

After some hemming and hawing, the younger man confessed, "You don't know what she's like now, Mr. Barrow. Everything I do or say only makes her angry."

Thomas didn't have much experience dealing with women in the final stages of pregnancy but wanted to say something reassuring. "It'll all be over soon, and then she'll be back to her old self again."

Andy looked unconvinced and walked off.

Later, the staff gathered in the servants' hall for their dinner. They were a small group now. The housemaids always left before tea, and Mrs. Hughes ate with her husband at their cottage. That left only Barrow, Mrs. Patmore, the Bateses, and Miss Baxter seated at the table. Suddenly, they heard the sound of the back door being thrown open, and a frantic‑looking Andy appeared in the doorway. "May I please use the telephone to call the doctor? The baby is coming."

"Of course," Thomas replied quickly.

The father‑to‑be ran off to the butler's pantry and then straight out the back door again, leaving the others smiling and shaking their heads in amusement. When they finished eating, Mrs. Patmore toted the dirty dishes to the kitchen and stacked them in the sink.

Thomas followed her, leaning in the doorway. "Poor Daisy's in for a rough night," he mused.

The cook was removing her apron. "I think I should be with her."

"You want to go to the farm—now?"

"She'd want me there."

"Well, I can't let you go out alone after dark, so I guess that means I'll have to come too," he grumbled.

But Mrs. Patmore saw through his charade. "You don't fool me one bit, Mr. Barrow. You want to go as much as I do."

Thomas looked down at the floor. "Maybe I can be of some use to Andy."

* * *

Mr. Mason's face fell slightly when he opened the door to find them standing there. "I thought you were the doctor," he explained as he ushered them inside.

"He's not here yet?" Mrs. Patmore asked uneasily.

"When Andy called earlier, the nurse said he'd gone out on a call but she'd tell him to come as soon as he got back." He led her up the creaky steps to look in on Daisy. A minute later, Andy bounded down the stairs.

"How's it going up there?" Thomas inquired as a sharp cry split the air.

"She's being very brave."

"What about you? How are you holding up?"

Andy ran his hands through his dark mop of curls. "I don't think I can do this, Mr. Barrow. I'm not ready."

"Well, it's a little late for second thoughts now," Thomas observed dryly.

"What do I know about being a father? What if I'm no good at it?"

"You're going to be a terrific dad, Andy, and it's not like you'll have to do it alone. You'll have Daisy and Mr. Mason to help you."

That seemed to calm the footman. "That's true."

Barrow nodded toward Mrs. Patmore who was slowly descending the stairs. "And I don't think you'd be able to keep _her_ away, even if you wanted to."

Andy returned to Daisy's side, and the others settled in for what promised to be a long night. For nearly an hour, the only sound was the crackling of the fire, punctuated by occasional shouts from upstairs. They all stared expectantly at the door, waiting anxiously for the arrival of the doctor.

Finally, Mrs. Patmore broke the silence. "I'll make us some tea." She bustled off to the small farmhouse kitchen, returning several minutes later with a tray holding a tea set, three cups, and a plate of sandwiches.

"You're an angel from heaven," Mason declared appreciatively, causing her to blush with pleasure.

Thomas rolled his eyes. Was this the next thing he had to look forward to? The late hour and the warmth of the fire were making him drowsy, and soon he drifted off to sleep. He wasn't sure how long he'd slept, but he awoke to a panicked Andy shouting, "Where is Dr. Clarkson? Why isn't he here yet?"

The cries from upstairs had become louder and more frequent. Mr. Mason gave voice to the thought on everyone's mind. "It looks like the baby might get here before the doctor."

"What are we going to do?" Andy lamented. He looked wildly from one person to the next. "Someone has to deliver it."

Mason looked over at Thomas. "I think it should be you, Mr. Barrow."

"Me?" Thomas squeaked, his mouth opening and closing comically. "Why me?"

"You're the only one here with medical training. Daisy told me you served in the Army Medical Corp during the war."

"I was a stretcher‑bearer mostly."

"After he was sent home from the front, he worked at the hospital and later managed the convalescent home." Mrs. Patmore added.

Thomas fixed her with an icy glare. "Oddly enough, none of that involved delivering babies." If it weren't for her, he'd be back at the Abbey asleep right now.

She continued, undeterred, "And didn't you once say your mother was a midwife and took you with her on her rounds?"

Whatever had possessed him to open his mouth about that? "Yes, but I was just a lad. She never let me _see_ anything." He indicated the prospective father. "No, it should be Andy. After all, he's helped deliver pigs, and how different can it be, really?"

Andy exploded. "Daisy isn't a pig. She's my wife, and she's having my child." There was an agonized wail from upstairs. "Please won't you help her, Mr. Barrow?" he implored.

Thomas felt everyone's eyes fixed on him and saw there was no escape. "I have to wash, and I'll need clean towels, scissors, and some twine."

Mrs. Patmore led him to the kitchen while Mr. Mason went to fetch the things. Andy hurried upstairs to explain the situation to Daisy before returning to the sitting room.

Thomas slowly ascended the stairs and entered the couple's bedroom to find an exhausted and terrified Daisy staring suspiciously up at him. "Did Andy tell you why I'm here?" he asked softly.

The young woman pulled the bedcovers up to her chin. "I don't think it's right."

"Don't you trust me?" God knows he had given her plenty of reasons to say no.

"It's not that," she was quick to assure him, "but it wouldn't be proper."

 _The daft woman is worried about modesty at a time like this?_ Thomas struggled to keep his voice calm. "Daisy, do you know about me—that I don't fancy women—like that?"

She returned an embarrassed nod.

"Since I'm not like other men in that way, it wouldn't be improper, would it?"

She seemed to consider his words. Just then, a powerful contraction came over her, causing her to cry out and writhe in agony. "Alright," she managed to hiss through the pain.

Barrow had seen more than his share of suffering during the war, but somehow this was worse. "I'm sorry, Daisy, but I need to look—down there." He pulled back the bedclothes, raised her nightgown, and positioned her knees so her feet were flat on the bed. Slowly, he pried her legs apart. The color drained from his face at the sight that greeted him.

* * *

Downstairs, Mr. Mason and Mrs. Patmore watched as Andy paced about the room like a caged tiger. "You'll wear out the rug if you keep that up," Mrs. Patmore joked.

"I think I should go up there."

"Nay, lad, you'd just be in the way," Mason told him. "We have to leave it to Mr. Barrow now."

There was the sound of a sharp knock, and Andy sprung to the door, wrenching it open. "Thank God," he muttered, nearly dragging Dr. Clarkson inside. At the same time, there was an unearthly shriek, followed by the sound of a baby's shrill cry. "It's born!" Andy exclaimed with excitement. "Mr. Barrow's done it!"

"Mr. Barrow?" the puzzled physician echoed, already hurrying for the stairs.

Several minutes later, a dazed and pale Thomas joined the others in the sitting room. His hair hung loosely on his forehead, and he was covered in a thin layer of sweat.

"It's a boy," he announced listlessly before collapsing onto the sofa.

"A boy! I have a son," Andy declared proudly. "How's Daisy?"

"She's fine. The doctor is examining her now."

Mr. Mason poured him a generous amount of whiskey. "You'll be needing this, I expect."

"Thanks." Thomas swallowed the drink in one gulp.

Doctor Clarkson soon appeared and assured everyone that all was well with mother and baby. He told an eager Andy, "You can go up now."

The new father rushed past him, taking the steps two at a time.

"I'll be back to check on them later." The little physician then addressed Thomas. "You did well today. Daisy said you were very gentle with her and the baby."

Barrow's only reply was a wan smile.

The three waited patiently in the sitting room, allowing the new family time alone. At last, Andy came to fetch them. The room had been tidied up, and a glowing Daisy cradled her son in her arms, with Andy taking his place by their side.

Mrs. Patmore dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief. "Oh, don't mind me."

"Do you know what you'd like him to be called?" Mr. Mason asked.

Daisy and Andy exchanged a conspiratorial look. "We've decided to name him William—William Mason Parker—Will, for short."

The old man was unable to speak and could only squeeze Daisy's hand in gratitude.

Thomas turned toward the cook. "Now we really must be getting back to the Abbey. The others will be up soon, and you still have the breakfast to make," he reminded her.

"First, I'd like to speak to Mr. Barrow alone," Daisy requested. "I promise it won't take long." When the others had gone, she smiled up at Thomas. "Would you like to hold him?"

"You forget I already have," Thomas replied cheekily, but he reached for the bundle nevertheless. The infant stirred in his arms before returning to sleep.

"You're good with children. Miss Sybbie and Master George adore you."

He merely shrugged. He couldn't tell her he liked the little ones because they didn't judge him the way adults did.

"You'd make a good father."

"But that's never going to happen, is it?" he replied more to himself than her. His face clearly showed the depth of his regret.

Daisy seemed to understand. "I know it's not the same but … would you like to be Will's godfather?"

Thomas was astounded. "You want a man like me as your baby's godfather?"

"If it weren't for you, he might not have made it into this world alive. I'd like it if you kept looking out for him as he grows."

"I'd be honored." He placed the baby back in the new mother's arms.

As he turned to go, he heard her say, "I'll be wanting a girl next. I'll send for you when the time comes."


End file.
